I'm Your Muse
by ObstinateHeadstrongGirl8
Summary: One-Shot Bellarke AU. Clarke and Bellamy are top-selling recording artists who decidedly do not like each other. But can these two hotheads survive working together when the label forces them to come up with a song? (This AU really fits any pairing that has two people who start out hating each other). All credit for the song at the end goes to Guns N' Roses.


"She's late," Bellamy said looking at his producer, Nathan Miller.

Bellamy Blake wasn't used to people being late. As the number one male artist in the country, with his third album hitting its sixth week at number one, people tended to show up on time.

"I mean, like she's really late," Bellamy said pacing.

"Chill out Blake, I'm sure she'll be here," Miller said not really paying attention.

Before Miller could even finish his sentence, Clarke Griffin walked in the door.

The first thought that popped into Bellamy's head was that Clarke was the most beautiful and damaged person he had ever seen.

The second was that he was still pissed she was late.

"Hey princess, nice of you to join us," Bellamy said as Clarke walked over to the couch.

"Take a bill Blake," Clarke answered.

They had met before at Monty Green's benefit concert and well... it had not gone well.

Clarke's band, the Delinquents, was getting quite the buzz around the music scene. With two Grammy's already under her belt, Clarke was working on the band's second album.

"So…" Bellamy said not quite sure how to get started. "How do you wanna play this Clarke? I have some verses written or if you have an idea you wanna start with…"

"Well, I was planning on taking a nap on this couch. So you can do whatever you want okay?" Clarke said with a head tilt, fake smile, and flip of her blonde hair.

"Why do I get the feeling you don't wanna be here?" Bellamy questioned.

"That would probably be because I don't wanna be here," Clarke answered picking up a magazine and flipping the pages while she sat back down on the couch.

"Well then, why are you here?"

Both of them wished she was somewhere else at that moment.

"The label said that if I didn't show up today, that they would stop promoting my album so… here I am," Clarke said, still not glancing up from her magazine. "Honestly hun this is a colossal waste of my time."

Clarke let her short blonde hair fall in her face. There was one piece of red still there from when she died it for her "Primal Fire Tour" dates. Bellamy would have thought she was stunning if he wasn't so pissed.

"Listen princess, just because you don't care about songwriting doesn't mean the rest of us are so cavalier with our music."

"Okay listen up you One Direction wannabe," Clarke said as Bellamy ran his hair through his curly brown hair. "I have written every song I have ever performed so why don't you shut up and let me go back to sleep."

"So you don't have a problem with song-writing, you just have a problem with me?" Bellamy asked pulling the magazine from her hand.

"Well looky there, Justin Timberlake does have a brain," Clarke answered grabbing back the magazine.

"Yeah… I'm going to take my break now," Miller said really, really ready to leave this conversation.

"Okay Gwen Stefani why don't you go back to sleep so I can actually use my studio time?" Bellamy said. He called Miller back into the room, along with Raven Reyes, one of the best sound mixers in the business.

Bellamy hadn't gotten through two verse idea before he heard chuckling from the other side of the room.

"So now you're awake?" Bellamy asked setting his guitar back on the ground.

"Well I usually can't sleep when my ears are bleeding sooo," Clarke said with her eyes still closed.

"What was wrong with it," Bellamy asked, weirdly curious. No one had been that honest with him in a really long time. It felt good to have someone who wouldn't bullshit him. Music can be a lonely pursuit, it was good to have someone who kept him grounded.

"Well," Clarke answered sitting up and straightening her black tank top. "The verses are nonsense, your melody is contrived, and you have no hook. Does that about clear it up for you?"

"Raven, Miller will you give us a minute," Bellamy asked.

Raven and Miller exited as quickly as they could. They did not wanna get in between these two hotheads.

"What is your problem with my music?" Bellamy asked.

"Honestly? You sold out. You're last two albums suck. Hard,'" Clarke replied.

"Maybe I always sucked," Bellamy sighed sitting down beside the couch.

"No, you didn't," Clarke replied. Her eyes seemed to soften as she looked at him this time. "Do you remember that song on your first album? You had that beautifully haunted minor bridge and that line, 'What do you do when you realize you might not be the good guy,' I mean. That stuck with me for weeks. Why don't you write like that anymore?" Clarke asked as she slid down to sit with Bellamy on the floor.

"I don't know," Bellamy answered honestly. "Do you remember why you write music, Clarke? Cause I don't anymore."

"I write music because when my dad died, it was the only thing that made me feel even a little bit better," Clarke said. "Haven't you ever had that feeling where you just know that nobody else on Earth could understand what you were going through, but then you find the right song and you think gosh, maybe I was wrong?"

"Well I have," Clarke said after a shy pause. "And I just want to write that song for other people. It's about being honest Bellamy. It's about writing the truth and telling people they don't have to bear it all on their own."

They sat together quietly for longer than either one of them cared to admit.

"I'm sorry about your dad Clarke," Bellamy finally said.

"It's okay, he gave me music. I like to think he's up there, waiting for me at heaven's door with a really good record," Clarke said smiling.

Suddenly Bellamy picked up his guitar and began strumming a few bars.

"Knock-knock-knockin on heaven's door," Bellamy sang quietly.

"Wait, that was pretty good," Clarke said. "Keep playing."

"Feels like I'm knocking on heaven's door," Clarke sang to Bellamy's tune.

"Princess, I think we might have a hit on our hands," Bellamy said laughing. "I guess you could say I'm your muse."

"Oh shut up Backstreet Boy," Clarke said, punching Bellamy in the shoulder but still laughing.

But he was right, they would make great music. Together.


End file.
